The Bad Boy Next Door

As soon as Jo got into her house she felt the tears start. She couldn't quite put her finger on exactly what had happened. How had she gone from having a simple conversation with her neighbor to kissing him like that?

She decided to blame the alcohol. What else would've made her completely forget about her husband like that?

She sank down on the couch, knowing it was more than just the couple of beers she had had. She wanted Frank when she was completely sober, too. And she'd been just one step away from throwing all her vows out the window and doing something she knew she'd regret.

She knew she should stay away from Frank, that the temptation was too great, but at the same time she wasn't sure if she could. She felt more alive with him than she had in so long, and she didn't want to give that up. She'd felt trapped in a loop for so long with Pete, doing the same thing every day, but not really feeling anything. With Frank, everything was different. But it was wrong. She was a married woman.

Jo stood, wiping at her eyes as she headed to the bedroom, telling herself that everything would look better in the morning.

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Jo woke the next morning feeling no better than she had the night before. All she could think about was what it felt like to kiss Frank and the overwhelming sense of guilt she felt at betraying Pete, even in that simple way.

She busied herself around the house, hoping that if she didn't sit still, maybe she could keep herself from thinking. It worked.

Until she did the laundry.

Jo stood in the basement in front of the washing machine, checking the pockets of the jeans she was about to wash. She reached into a pair of Pete's, pulling out a small, folded slip of paper. Curious, she opened it. Jo felt her whole world spin as she read what was written. It was simple, just the name "Leanne" and a number in curvy, feminine handwriting.

The paper fell to the ground as Jo stepped back, her hand clamped over her mouth as she fought back tears. In the back of her mind she'd always had the nagging suspicion that Pete's "business trips" weren't all that he said they were. Her friend Bob's wife, Gina, had once tried to argue that if Pete wasn't getting it at home, he was getting it somewhere, but Jo hadn't let herself believe that. Pete was just tired. All that working and traveling…

But Gina had been right. Pete hadn't been simply worn out from work; he'd been worn out from whatever it was he was doing with "Leanne."

Jo felt angry tears begin to stream down her face. She'd let herself be torn up with guilt over one kiss, and he'd been sleeping around on her for who knew how long.

"That bastard!" Jo yelled, throwing the jeans as hard as she could.

She stared down at the piece of paper, her pain quickly becoming nothing but anger. She'd wasted so much time, keeping his house, doing nothing for herself, while he'd been out having fun with some home-wrecking slut.

Jo's mouth formed a determined line. "No more," she said aloud. She wasn't going to sit at home playing housewife Barbie for Pete Wentz any longer.

Jo walked out of the basement.